Crash course
by Sylvie Orp
Summary: Bodie and Doyle's travel plans go off the rails
1. Chapter 1

It had actually gone well. Investigations had led Bodie and Doyle to Norfolk. They'd liaised with the local force there and gathered all kinds of interesting information. Bodie took his duties very seriously and spent an exhausting night wrestling under the duvet with a rather athletic police sergeant - of the female variety. He had done his own undercover work and found her police strategies very informative! Doyle conversely had been excited to discover a local cinema showing an indie film he'd been wanting to see for ages. Pity that he had no-one to go with, or share his hotel bed afterwards, but he shrugged his shoulders philosophically. There'd be other times.

Doyle was neither surprised nor concerned when Bodie didn't turn up for breakfast at their hotel next morning. His sharp eyes had noticed that Bodie's mind hadn't been completely on the job as his partner and the police woman played footsie under the table at their last briefing. After breakfast, Doyle paid the bill and booked out. Thunder rolled overhead and the clouds were pregnant with rain. He was getting a little concerned as he looked round for his mate at the train station, the clock ticking. With only five minutes to spare, Bodie arrived flushed and breathless. Doyle tried to look tetchy to disguise his relief at seeing his partner. Doyle tossed Bodie's overnight bag at his feet.

"You can wash your own socks," Doyle commented as they headed quickly for the platform.

Once settled on the train, Bodie began to relate his steamy evening.

"If it involves handcuffs and uniforms, you can spare me the details." With that, Doyle got out a novel and stretched his legs out on the spare seat.

Frustrated, but not surprised, Bodie prowled the train for a bit of company. Finding none, he settled back down with a book and a bacon sandwich he'd bought in the buffet car. Doyle glanced at the unhealthy meal but said nothing. Bodie knew his friend's views on nutrition, and flagrantly ignored them. They sat in companionable silence for nearly an hour when all of a sudden there was a scream of brakes and the train lurched violently. With a tremendous crash and screech of torn metal the whole carriage came off the rails. Bodies were thrown around like dolls. Bags, meals, clothes, books and other possessions were hurled around as though in a spin drier. A second after the initial bang, passengers began to scream. Screaming was cut off as bodies hit seats, walls and each other. The carriage tried to drag itself away from the other wagons it was attached to. The middle carriage compressed and rolled sideways into the embankment. Then suddenly all was still. Into the silence, moaning and sobbing built gradually to a steady drone of pain and fear. Grunts were heard as the more able and less shocked passengers began to tentatively stir wondering if they were still alive and what, if anything, they'd broken. The most immediate problem was trying to work out which way was 'up'. Doyle dug himself out slowly and painfully from under Bodie's body as his friend began to rouse himself. Other passengers too were on the move. These more able souls worked out that the carriage was on its side and partially submerged in a landslide.

"It's the rain," a local man said to no-one in particular. "The amount of rain we've had recently has undermined the track. That's what's happened."

No-one argued with him. The cause was, for the moment, irrelevant. Getting the casualties out of here was of more urgency. Bodie rubbed the back of his neck and his head, wincing, as he glanced round. His hand came away bloody but he kept quiet about it; there were greater priorities here. He and his partner had been hurled several seats ahead and slammed up against the interconnecting door, the window shattering to a thousand pieces. The pair immediately and automatically went into 'emergency mode'. They systematically checked every body they came across. They gently extracted passengers from under tables, under seating and under each other. They used ties and socks as bandaging. Apart from shock, the main injuries were fractures and lacerations. Two of the male passengers had made it to the outside world via a smashed window. They looked about them, assessing how to evacuate the passengers. They would have to be hauled upwards through the window and over the side of the carriage. And then? That passenger had been right; it was a landslide. The ground was still unstable. The mud oozed and shifted like a living thing as the men watched through the rain. They looked over at the other side of the track. There was a gaping hole where the sleepers should have been. In short, they had to stay where they were. They sensed that Bodie and Doyle had instinctively taken over the situation and the men reported their findings to them.

"We'd better stay put then," Bodie concluded, "Unless the carriage itself becomes too unstable or we start to drown in mud."

"Let's see if we can get into the other carriages and make our way out that way. You said that some of the wagons were still on the tracks," Doyle noted.

"That's right," the man replied, "but the lines may still be live. If we do move about, we'd better keep indoors."

His audience nodded in agreement and, after attending to all their own casualties, set about trying to open the interconnecting door. On one side of the compartment, the door had twisted and there was no way that was going to open short of using cutting equipment. At the other end, they could see passengers trying to get through from their side. The team eventually prised the doors open and got through into the next carriage. There was pandemonium there, too. Doyle began sorting out the casualties. Nothing constructive had been done to help them. He noticed that he was in the first class compartment now. He tuned in to the conversations Bodie and their helpers were having with the first classers, but continued his work of hasty first aid. After applying a tourniquet to a young boy's leg, he was directed to a heavily pregnant woman. Shock had sent her into an early labour. Since things could get intimate quite quickly, Doyle introduced himself and reassured her that he was a first aider and had delivered a baby before. She seemed a little calmed by this and even managed a small smile. Doyle asked her permission to feel the baby to see if it was moving and its position. He also asked her medical questions about her pregnancy. Her confidence increased with each intelligent question. She felt as if she was dealing with a member of her own medical team.

While Doyle was acting as midwife, Bodie had gathered his own group together and was setting about trying to find an easier access to the outside world. He and his helpers were concerned that if they were finding this difficult, then the emergency services, with their heavy vehicles and equipment, would find the boggy terrain impossible.

"One thing at a time," Bodie commented. "Let's see if we can get into the next carriage along. From what you say, that one should be upright at least."

Bodie led the way, as best he could amongst the debris and the injured, to the next interconnecting door. A view through the window did suggest that the carriage was almost vertical. The door, though, proved trickier and it took a lot of prising and grunting of several burly men before they got it open. There were fewer casualties in the next carriage; bruises and shock mainly. Some of these passengers had got through to the next and final carriage. There was nowhere left for them to go from there. Bodie got an emergency hammer and smashed the windows of the last coach and, sticking his head outside, made a professional assessment.

"Right," he said with finality, coming back inside, "this is where we gather our casualties ready for the emergency services. The rain's not letting up, so we may as well keep as warm and dry as we can."

Bodie press-ganged the able bodied to clear the gangway of wreckage, jettisoning as much as possible. They could, he assured them, gather their belongings later. Bodie's experience told him otherwise, but thought he'd keep that to himself. Clothing and seat cushions he wanted kept for the casualties. Once he was satisfied that he'd got himself a clearing and first aid station, he went back to collect the injured from the other compartments. A small possé re-entered the first class carriage. Bodie told Doyle what he'd been up to. Doyle pointed to the lad with the tourniquet being soothed by his father.

"He should go first from here," Doyle stated, while still dealing with the pregnant woman.

Bodie gathered the lad up while his team helped the walking wounded to the front. As that carriage was beginning to fill up, Bodie ordered the non-injured out of there. It was for casualties only. Bodie walked back through the first class to their original carriage. He'd noticed on the way that Doyle was practicing deep breathing exercises with the woman. _At this rate, she'll be having twins before the emergency services turn up_ , Bodie thought to himself as he continued on with his mission. As he and his team carried, dragged or helped 'their' casualties through the train, sirens could be heard. He knew, though, that it would be some time before the rescue services could find a way through to help them. Bodie considered pontoon bridges, but would leave it to the firemen to decide how best to get to them. Finding nothing further to do now that all the casualties they could find had been bundled together, Bodie went back to see how his mate was getting on. He felt that the woman shouldn't be moved, unless Doyle said otherwise. There was a prolonged scream as he re-entered the first class compartment. It was the unmistakable scream of a woman in the final stages of her confinement. Doyle was saying encouraging things while doing - well, Bodie didn't like to speculate, though his last first aid course had covered midwifery. Bodie hovered on the sidelines in case Doyle needed help, but kept his eyes averted.

One final scream, one final push, and it was done. Mother and Doyle grinned inanely at each other. Doyle had got a towel from somewhere and wrapped the infant in it. Somehow Doyle had detected his friend's presence - or perhaps he just expected it - as he introduced the new infant to its new mother.

"It's a girl, Bodie," Doyle grinned as happily as if he had been its father. "And she looks fit and well."

"Certainly got good lungs," Bodie said dryly, still looking out of the window.

Doyle knew that this kind of thing - 'women's problems' - embarrassed the hell out of Bodie but - if pushed - Bodie would know what to do and would do it to the best of his ability. After ensuring that mother and child were as well as they could be in the circumstances, Doyle dragged himself to his feet. He swayed.

"The carriage's moving," Doyle said anxiously.

"No, it's just you mate," Bodie said with equal anxiety.

Doyle was breathing hard. "You sure?"

"Come on, the cavalry's arrived."

"I'm not leaving Cheryl," Doyle said firmly and loyally.

Bodie could see his point. There was no sign of the woman's husband, or any other family member or friend - and she needed someone right now.

"All right," Bodie said reluctantly, "I'll come back for you as soon as I can. I'll flag you as a priority - and I'm not just talking about Cheryl either," he added in a whisper.

"Stop fussing …"

"Where are you hurt?" Bodie wasn't sure that Doyle would co-operate.

"Something wrong with my shoulder. Hurts to move it."

Bodie assessed him. With a thick jacket on, it was impossible to say if he'd broken it, dislocated it, or neither of those things.

"Don't go away," was all Bodie could say, looking firmly into Doyle's eyes.

It was nearly half an hour before the fire service, joined by the local army corps, managed to fashion a workable bridge to get the passengers off. Bodie and his little team threatened and physically restrained any able bodied passenger who thought they were more important than a casualty. On hearing Bodie's concise report, a couple of medics moved through to the first class compartment to attend to the mother and child. Relieved that professional help had now arrived, Doyle could surrender his casualty. Cheryl was reluctant to be parted from her hero, but Doyle reassured her that she was in the best hands now. He kissed the baby's head before the pair disappeared from view. He followed the medics into the next carriage, but that was as far as he could go before he needed a rest. Bodie wasn't too distracted to notice.

"How's the patient?"

"They'll be fine," Doyle smiled, looking out of the window to the mother gradually disappearing from view, huddled on a stretcher.

"I meant you," Bodie said pointedly.

"What?" Doyle dragged his gaze reluctantly from the window.

"You're getting all broody Doyle. I've seen that look before."

"Don't you want …"

"What I want is for you to see a doctor. There are a lot of them about now. Perhaps you hadn't noticed while you had your head under the 'bonnet'."

"Let's just get the hell out of here. The doctors are too busy for the likes of me - or you. You haven't told me how you're getting on. That's not lipstick on your collar, that's blood."

"Headache, that's all. Come on." Bodie was now tugging urgently at Doyle's sleeve. All the casualties had been taken off and it was the turn of the others to be escorted off the train.

Bodie walked his reluctant patient back to the main road. He noticed how slowly Doyle was walking.

"What now?" There was some despair in Doyle's voice.

Bodie hadn't thought this far along the line. On reflection, he hadn't a clue where they were. He reckoned that they had to be close to the outskirts of London at least. He stretched his mind to their estimated time of arrival. He then realised that they should only be about ten minutes from their destination. So, closer than he originally thought. That was encouraging. He was going to ask a copper for a lift when one of them came over.

"Do you want me to take you anywhere?" he offered.

"That's kind," Bodie got in first. "He needs a doctor. You haven't got one spare, have you?"

The policeman smiled. "No but I know a place that has loads of them."

"All the hospitals within a five mile radius will be overflowing. If we're near an underground station, I'll take the tube," Doyle said tiredly.

Bodie was about to protest when the copper took charge. "No way, Mr Doyle. I'll take you over the river. Guy's isn't far."

Doyle looked at the man more closely. Even in his delicate health, he had noticed the use of his name. The man certainly didn't look familiar but he did look smug at Doyle's confusion.

"My sergeant recognised you, Mr Doyle." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "I believe you're CI5," he whispered.

"Word does travel doesn't it?" Doyle responded wearily.

Bodie couldn't care less whether the guy believed Doyle could walk on water. "Can we just get somewhere?" he ordered tetchily.

"'Course," the man said, directing him to their car.

With the blue light flashing, it didn't take them long to get to the hospital. Doyle was given priority and insisted that Bodie have a once-over too. Doyle was stripped to the waist and lying belly down on the examination couch when Bodie wandered into the room after being patched up. Doyle had a blanket over his lower half and the doctor was stitching a long wound across Doyle's shoulder blade. Bodie whistled through his teeth as he glanced at the patient.

"Phew. I bet that 'urts."

"Sod off," Doyle managed before the doctor tentatively threatened to get security to evict this lunatic.

"It's ok doc. Bodie's not too dangerous as long as you co-operate with him and talk to him gently."

Bodie grinned and offered to help. The doctor eyed him suspiciously.

"Bodie, can you do something for me?" Doyle murmured as the doctor hesitated over his patient - wanting to continue, but too scared in case this lunatic lost control.

Bodie leaned forward to hear his mate better. "Name it," he said anxiously.

"Sod off," Doyle said again.

This time Bodie's grin had an air of embarrassment and he left slowly to wait in Casualty. He tried chatting up the woman with the broken toe waiting for her x-ray but she didn't seem in the mood, so Bodie had to suffer for another 20 minutes before his mate made his unsteady way out of the treatment room with his jacket over his shoulders and his arm in a sling.

"Doc says to stay off the arm for a while." Doyle's voice was barely above a whisper. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Tough nut me."

Doyle shook his head in exasperation as his partner noticed the doctor sidling quickly away, hopeful that Bodie wouldn't notice him and get dangerous.

"I bet he wanted you to stay in, didn't he?" Bodie smirked

"Stop being clever and take me home. By the way, did you contact base?"

"'Course. Cowley wants to see us in the morning."

"That's a treat to look forward to," Doyle said sarcastically as they left the hospital to find a cab.

8


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Next morning, Bodie woke his partner with a cup of tea. He'd insisted that Doyle spend at least a couple of days with him. Doyle had protested, saying that he wasn't a complete invalid. Bodie had countered that he was, instead, a complete idiot and he'd brook no refusal. Bodie went out for milk and a newspaper while his mate made his acquaintance with the morning. Doyle eventually emerged from the bathroom still looking pale. He settled himself at the kitchen table and, as he watched Bodie put the toast on and the kettle to boil, Doyle thought himself lucky to have someone to care for him and to care about him. Bodie was easy with him now. It hadn't been that way in the beginning, but they'd eventually found an accommodation and looked after each other when the chips were down. Perhaps the birth yesterday had put Doyle in such a mellow and reflective mood. He was confused however by Bodie's grin as he put the tea and toast on the table and settled himself opposite his partner. He had that smug look which suggested to Doyle that Bodie knew something Doyle didn't and was enjoying every moment of his secret knowledge. Doyle refused to rise to the bait. He was tired. It was only his appointment with Cowley - in less than half an hour - that had got him out of bed at all.

"Tell me about Cheryl," Bodie asked casually as he munched on his buttered toast.

Doyle immediately sensed a trap. The question had been too casual. "She was a pregnant female. Around 30, 32. Long, dark hair. Brown eyes. Gave birth to a seemingly healthy baby girl. Her first." Doyle waited to see if that would satisfy his mate. He wasn't sure what information Bodie wanted.

"Cheryl what?"

"Dunno."

Bodie raised an eyebrow, shrugged indifferently, and asked, "What does she do for a living?"

"How the hell should I know?" Doyle was on a short fuse. His mellow mood was quickly evaporating as pain and fatigue set in again. "Look Bodie, labour isn't exactly a moment for a chat-up. Even you should know that. If you don't - well, you do now."

Bodie still grinned, despite his mate's tetchiness. "Was there anything familiar about her? Seen her before; that kind of thing?"

Despite his anger, Doyle was puzzled. He recalled her face. Very pretty, despite the fear in her eyes and pain in her face, but he was sure he hadn't encountered her before.

"She was travelling first class," Bodie prompted.

"So? She was pregnant. I would imagine that she'd want a bit of comfort at that stage in her pregnancy."

Bodie said nothing as he got up and retrieved the newspaper from the shelf by the back door. He slid it across to his partner, never taking his eyes from him or letting his grin slip an inch. Puzzled, Doyle continued to stare at his friend. Getting no further information, he turned his attention to the newspaper, not knowing what article he was meant to be reading. However, it didn't take a trained agent to spot the item. ' _Actress gives birth in train smash_ ' screamed the headline. Doyle went cold.

Bodie was chuckling. "No wonder the Old Man wants to see you, Doyle. He might even give you paternity leave!"

"Not funny Bodie. I gave the woman my name."

"What, so she could name the child after you? Raymond's a bit odd for a girl, though isn't it? Rayanne?"

Doyle couldn't see the funny side. He could only see Cowley throwing him off the squad for drawing attention to CI5. True, he hadn't told Cheryl his occupation, but he could think of a dozen people who'd hold their hands up and admit to knowing him - for a small fee from the newspapers of course. Why the hell couldn't Bodie see the danger? Even in Doyle's delicate health, he could see where this could lead. He could never stay in the squad if most of Britain knew who he was and what he looked like. Hell, there may even be a photo of him appearing in the next editions - if there wasn't one already. Doyle tore through the paper, looking for any further column inches. Bodie saw the panic in Doyle's eyes and couldn't understand it. Anger and embarrassment perhaps, but not fear.

"What?" Bodie asked, sobering up quickly.

"You bloody idiot, can't you see the nose on your face?!" Doyle was practically squealing with alarm.

Clearly Bodie couldn't see the threat and Doyle explained, hammering home the points one by one. "No wonder Cowley wants to see me. He wants to give me the boot and I haven't a bloody leg to stand on. I'm done for, mate. Thanks for your bloody understanding." Doyle was breathing hard.

"Ray let's not panic, mate."

Bodie tried his best to sooth his friend but he kept getting accused of not understanding the gravity of the situation. It was time, in any case, for them to be going. As Doyle had said before, thinking about it was worse than doing it. And Doyle was never one to hide from a bad situation.

The men entered Cowley's office as though entering a lion's den. Doyle knew this was the end. It was like being back on the train - except this time he _knew_ it was going to crash. The pair stood to attention in front of the boss's desk like naughty children found out. They stared rigidly ahead.

"You'll have read the papers," Cowley stated, knowing why his men were looking more than a little apprehensive.

He shook his head. He had thought, while reading the newspaper over breakfast, that he would make capital of this, string it out a bit, and let Doyle's top lip sweat over it. A bit of a fright now and then kept an agent on his toes. But now that he had the man in front of him, all such thought vanished. Doyle looked like a man in front of a firing squad trying hard to be a brave soldier in his final moments. If Cowley whispered 'boo' he believed that he'd have to scrape Doyle off the ceiling. He needed to lance the boil quickly.

"You did well both of you. I've had reports from the different services and they say that you took charge of the situation and helped to keep everyone calm - as well as giving excellent first aid." He looked at Doyle as he came to the end of his assessment. "It was rather unfortunate that you gave your name, Doyle - and to a famous actress, too."

"Doyle didn't recognise her."

Doyle wasn't sure if Bodie were being loyal, or sending him up. He kept quiet as he knew he was on the edge.

"Really?"

"It wasn't her face I was concentrating on!" Doyle finally exploded.

"Understandable," Cowley said rapidly. "Fortunately word got to me quite quickly that it was you two on the train." Cowley had in fact known that they were on that service as Doyle had dutifully reported in what train they were going to catch, and the police descriptions matched their men. Thank God dutiful Doyle had followed procedure for once! "One of the policemen recognised you, Doyle, and word got sent up the line. I got on to the press and threw a 'D Notice' to the editors that your name wasn't to be mentioned or any photographs published. I take it that you didn't tell her what you did?"

Doyle felt anger flare. His rational side said that Cowley had to ask the question. It wasn't personal.

"No sir. I just told her that I was a first aider and had delivered a baby before. I needed her to have confidence in me. She was scared. It was her first baby and …"

"It's all right Doyle. You don't need to justify yourself. You conducted yourself admirably. It'll be recorded on your reports." Cowley included Bodie in this last remark.

Just to be sure of the ground - Doyle being too upset, in Bodie's view, to think clearly at the moment - he asked, "You're not going to sack him, are you, sir, just because he got involved with an actress?"

"I can speak for myself, Bodie," Doyle retorted angrily.

"And I'll speak for myself," Cowley cut across their argument. "You're not being sacked or reprimanded, Doyle. I hope that's clear to both of you. Now go home and rest. You should have been admitted for a blood transfusion yesterday. Bucking the system, as usual?"

"They were just fussing sir."

"Home, Doyle. Rest. You too, Bodie. You have a concussion and shock. I don't want to see either of you till next week. Now get out."

Cowley returned to his paperwork and the men knew they'd been dismissed. In the car Doyle closed his eyes and let out the breath he'd been holding. Bodie noticed but said nothing. He patted Doyle's thigh supportively. Doyle looked out of the window. He didn't want Bodie to see how close he was to tears. Bodie checked the side mirror and saw his mate's face reflected there. If Doyle hadn't let the Cow know their travel plans; if the copper hadn't recognised Doyle; if he hadn't sent word up the chain of command; if Cowley hadn't been quick to see the danger (as Doyle had once he'd seen the newspaper)... Doyle's career had all hung on a thin paper chain of 'ifs'. No wonder he was shaky. It had been a close call.


End file.
